LETTIE C. VAN DERVEER 



ANY-DAY ENTERTAINMENTS 



PN 4201 
.V25 
Copy 2 




A COLLECTION OF MONOLOGUES 
DIALOGUES, ONE-ACT SKETCHES 
AND NOVELTY RECITATIONS 



j 



Walter H. Baker Company, Boston 



Any-Day Entertainments 



,/ 



A Collection of Monologues, Dialogues, 

One-Act Sketches, and Novelty 

Recitations 



By 
LETTIE C. VanDERVEER 

Author of " Christmas Doings," "Halloween 
Happenings" etc. 




BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER COMPANY 

1922 







Copyright, 1922, by Lettie C. VanDerveer. i 

Free for amateur performance. 
All other rights reserved. 



Any-Day Entertainments 



HAY 15 1922 ^ 
g)CI.A674136 



**9 V 



ANY-DAY ENTERTAINMENTS 



121 

~3 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

A Courtin' 7 

Preparedness . . . • • • • .12 

Pictured Songs • . . 1 5 

Carpet Rags 2 ° 

Rather Be the Horn 29 

When Friend Meets Friend 32 

Two Little Girls in Blue 35 

When Folks Looks at You So 38 

Jamie's Uncle Andy 40 

Pig Latin 42 

How Sonny Beat 44 

The Serenade .45 

When Elinore is Thinking Out a Pome ... 50 

Just Like Me 52 

Four Unfortunates 54 

A Mule Named Joe and the Circus Show . . 57 
Mrs. Fidgetti on the Trolley Car .... 60 

The Make-Believe Bear 63 

Down at Aunt Mollie's 65 

The Sayings of Grandfather Macintosh . . 67 

The Sunflowers' Wooing 70 

Politics Ain't What They Used to Be . . .76 
Lucy's Dreadful Dream ..,,.. 79 
Girls of America . . . . . . .83 

The Frog Holler Orchestra 90 



Any-Day Entertainments 



A COURTIN' 

SCENE. — Cynthy's parlor. Cynthy in a rocking 
chair at right, knitting; Silas at left about six feet 
away; hat in hands; plainly nervous. 

{As they talk, they edge chairs toward and away 
from each other according to the tone of conver- 
sation. They come near as the courting pro- 
gresses favorably and move apart when things 
are going wrong. ) 

Silas. The moon is kinda nice to-night. 

Cynthy. Do tell ! Now is that so ? 

Silas. I thought Fd come around a while. 

Cynthy. You did ? I wanta know ! 

Silas. I passed by Trudie Hobbs'es house, — 

Cynthy {edges away, says coldly). 

Why didn't you stop in ? 
Silas (conciliatingly). 

I ain't admirin' her so much. 

She's most too tall and thin. 

Besides, I like to stop in here. 
Cynthy. Now ain't that queer ! Do tell ! 
Silas. I — dunno as you want me to — ? 

7 



ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Cynthy. Oh, laws ! You might as well. 
Silas. You're sure there's no objections? 

Cynthy. None, as far as I can see. 
Silas {drawing nearer and nearer). 

Is everybody willin' ? 
Cynthy. Why, — Pa is, — and Ma, and — and me. 
Silas. I — I — say ! I'd like to ask ye if — 

{Coughs.) 
Cynthy ( encouragingly ) . 

Go on. What did you say? 
Silas {eagerly). 

Say ! Will ye, — will ye — 

{Suddenly loses courage.) 

Hem ! Ahem ! 

Ain't it a lovely day? 
Cynthy {disappointed, says sarcastically). 

It hailed a lot this morning, and 

It's spittin' some to-night. 
Silas {meekly). 

It's got a little colder too, — 
Cynthy {pronouncedly). 

I dunno but you're right. 
Silas {nervously). 

It's been a snappy winter. 

Trudie Hobbs was sayin' so — 
Cynthy {moves very decidedly away). 

Y-es ! That's what Hiram Hanks re- 
marked. 
Silas {offendedly). 

Do tell ! I wanta know. 

Has he been comin' here agin? 
Cynthy {head on side). 

Perhaps. I ain't a-sayin'. 
Silas {offendedly). 

If you're expectin' any one 

There ain't no use my stayin'. 



A COURTrrf 9 

Cynthy (relents, moves nearer'). 

Oh, I dunno but what I'd just 

As lief to have you stay. 
Silas (still offended). 

If you ain't sure you want me to, 

Why, 'course I'll go away. 
Cynthy (meltingly). 

Why, — if you like to come around, 

Why — Pa and Ma don't mind. 
Silas (appeased). 

And how about the — the rest the folks ? 
Cynthy (sweetly). 

Oh, — we feel the same, you'll find. 
Silas (swallows hard). 

I come around to-night to say — 

I — I come around to-night — 
Cynthy ( imp alien tly ) . 

Land sakes ! I see you've come around. 
Silas. I — this collar's awful tight. 

(Appears to have trouble with his collar. Cynthy 
clicks knitting needles in a moment's exasperated 
silence. Silas looks sidewise at her anxiously; 
edges nearer.) 

I come around to-night because — 

I come around — you see — 
(Desperately.) 

Because I — I had to come. 
Cynthy (sniffs). Don't feel 

Compelled to call on me. 
Silas (worriedly). 

I — I kinda couldn't stay to hum 

Because you know, — you see 
Cynthy (encouragingly). 

Oh, yes, I know, I see, — go on ! 



IO ANY-DAY ENTERTAINMENTS 

Silas (lamely). 

Twa'n't where I cared to be. 
Cynthy (in pretended indifference). 

Oh, you'd some other place in view ? 
Sila s. Why, yes, I had — ( Coughs. ) why, yes, — 

Cynthy. Say! Silas Sodgrass, are you sick? 
Silas. I — Fm sick at heart I guess. 
Cynthy. You'd better see a doctor then. 
Silas (bravely). 

I'd ruther see you, (Softly.) dear. 
Cynthy (eagerly). 

I didn't quite catch what you said ? 
Silas. I — I said (Loses courage.) it's warm in 

here. 
Cynthy (provoked). 

Well, go and put the winder up. 
Silas (looks around; listens; says despairingly). 

Here comes your brother Jim. 
(To himself.) 

I'll never get to say it now ! 
Cynthy. Well, are you scared of him ? 

(Door bursts open; in rushes excited little brother.) 

Jim. Say ! What you s'pose I heard to-night 

Over to Uncle Frank's? 
Why, Trudie Hobbs has gone and got 
Engaged to Hiram Hanks. 

(Slams out again, calling, " Say, Mom! Say, Pop! 
Listen!'' Silas looks sidewise at Cynthy. 
Cynthy looks sidewise at Silas. They edge 
chairs close.) 

Silas. Say ! Why should Hi and her step off 
Ahead of you and me ? 



A COURTIN* II 

Cynthy (coyly). 

There ain't a bit o* need of it 
As far as I can see. 

(The chairs close; Silas holds hat in front of his 
face and Cynthy's, and a sounding smack is 
heard as curtain falls. ) 



CURTAIN 



PREPAREDNESS 

A young man appears, stylishly dressed. An over- 
coat conceals the following articles, which are on a 
string hung about his neck: — brush and comb; soap, 
zvash-basin, wash-cloth, towel, safety-razor, shaving- 
mug, tooth-brush, tooth-paste. He touches these 
articles as he mentions them. When he tells how his 
girl fixes up her face he illustrates the way she did it. 

I asked a girl the other night 

To go to see a show. 
I didn't have to ask her twice ; 

She said she'd " love to go ! " 
I called for her at sev'n-fifteen; 

She looked so nice and sweet, 
Nobody would have thought, I'm sure, 

She wasn't quite complete. 
So we got on a trolley-car; 

And what do you suppose ! 
She got some " fixin's " out of her bag 

And started to powder her nose. 

Say ! That gave me a good idea ; 

If you have to get dressed in a hurry, 
And don't have time for everything 

Before you leave home, — why worry? 

{Unbuttons overcoat as he talks.) 

12 



PREPAREDNESS 1 3 

Just carry along your comb and brush ; 

Some soap and a wash-basin ; 
There may be a handy faucet and 

You'll have it to wash your face in. 
And sling a towel around your neck ; 

A wash-cloth on a string ; 
In case you don't get finished at home 

You're ready for anything. 

When we got to the theatre 

The usher showed us where 
To find our nice expensive seats. — 

I " blew " myself for fair ! — 
My girl took off her coat and hat ; 

Then started to massage 
Her muffy, tuffy, fluffy hair, 

And shake up each " garage." 
Got out her little lookin'-glass, 

Patted and puffed each side ; 
Pulled out a little curl in front 

And sat back satisfied. 

Say ! That gave me a good idea ; 

If you have to get dressed in a hurry, 
And don't have time for everything 

Before you leave home, — why worry ? 

Just carry along your shaving-mug, 

Likewise a safety-razor. 
Instead of hastening now, you 

Can " doll up " at your leisure. 
Your little tooth-brush, and some paste 

Suspended from a string; 
In case you get " held up " at home 

You're ready for anything. 



14 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

The orchestra began to play ; 

The first act, it was great ! 
My girl and I enjoyed ourselves. 

'Twas coming off first rate. 
She just was getting rested up, 

And chewed her spearmint gum, 
When all at once she recollected 

Something she hadn't done — ! 
She opened up a silver box, 

Unmindful of the place, 
Dabbed out some pink stuff on a rag, 

And polished up her face. 

Say ! That gave me a good idea. 

If you have to get dressed in a hurry, 
And don't have time for everything 

Before you leave home, — why worry ? 

Just carry along your comb and brush, 

A wash-rag and some soap ; 
Your towel, basin, anything, — 

With time and tide to cope. 
Your shaving-mug, and safety-blade, 

Your tooth-brush and some paste ; 
In case you get " held up " at home 

It minimizes haste. 



PICTURED SONGS 

(An evening's entertainment in itself.) 

[A frame may be used large enough to give full- 
length view of figures, or simply curtained stage, 
with plain dark background. In either case a cur- 
tain must be arranged to draw quickly for each 
tableau. 

A quartette, whose members may also take solos, 
should render the musical selections, and the poetical 
story of the picture-songs should be given as it oc- 
curs between each song and its accompanying tableau. 
The person who recites, as well as the singers, should 
stand inconspicuously at one side of the stage, so 
that the picture is the object of all eyes. 

In order to give sufficient time for changing scenes 
the verse of the song may precede the picture, which 
in most cases is best suited to the chorus.] 

Recital : — 
Some pictures memory brings to us to-night ; 

As looking back across the years 
We find them treasured in our hearts, and see 

Them through both smiles and tears. 

There are the dear home pictures ; how they come ! 

With Mother, Father, Sister and the rest ; 
The aged Grand- folk by the chimney-place; 

Home pictures, — these are loved the best. 

15 



16 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Clear to my memory comes a cradle song, 

Echoing Mother's voice as long ago 
She crooned to one of us a lullaby 

Rocking a little cradle to and fro. 

Song. " Sweet and Low," or, " Sleep, Baby Sleep." 
Picture. Mother and baby; little cradle. 

There are the playmates of our childhood days ; 

The little, laughing girls, and romping boys ; 
With rosy cheeks and voices ringing gay, 

Who shared our playtime joys. 

Song. {Briskly) as, " Schooldays," or, "See-Saw." 
Picture. Group of children at play. (If "See- 
Sazv " is sung that plaything should be used.) 

Maybe a faithful friend of those glad days, 
The " old black Joe " who took us on his knee, 

And poured into our ears some thrilling tale, 
Or haunting melody. 

Song. " Old Black Joe" 

Picture. Old negro, bent and gray, leaning on 
heavy knotted stick. 

And at the close of day the evening song, 
A hearth-fire, and the loved ones gathered near ; 

Closest the home-tie then, of all the day, 
Each unto each more dear. 

Song. "Just a Song at Twilight" or, "Love's 
Old Sweet Song." 

Picture. Family group. (Artistically placed, as 
Taylor's "Home Keeping Hearts are Happiest") 



PICTURED SONGS I? 

Again does memory bring some influence rare; 

That hovered round those days of long ago ; 
A gentle presence on its quiet way, 

A benediction just to love and know. 

Song. " Last Rose of Summer" 

Picture. Gentle-faced old lady. {Dressed and 
posed in the style of the artist Whistle? s " Mother " 
picture, with the addition of a rose which she holds in 
her hand and looks down upon.) 

There are the comrades of our early youth, 
Perhaps " Sweet Alice " with her trusting eyes, 

Who went away before life's storms could touch, 
Or sorrow bring its sad surprise. 

Song. " Sweet Alice Ben Bolt" 

Picture. Young girl in white. (Simple rose- 
wreathed hat on her simply-arranged hair; its ribbons 
held in her hands. Dreamy pose.) 

A lovers' quarrel, — a saddened clouded face; 

Pride, — and regrets, and memories, and pain— 
These all are in one picture that we see 

On memory's page again. 

Song. " Won't You Tell Me Why, Robin." 
Picture. Young man and maid. (She at left, he 

at right; she turning to look over her shoulder at his 

proud retreating back. ) 

Then comes the memory of a festal time, 
When hearts were young, and life with promise 
bright ; 

The crowning hour of all ; the mystic spell 
Of strolling homeward in the pale moonlight. 



1 8 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Song. " Seeing Nellie Home," or, " The Quilting 
Party." 

Picture. Faint light on picture of two young 
lovers. (In the dress of forty years ago. Her mitted 
hand rests on his arm. He looks fondly down at her.) 

A later " Mother " picture comes to mind ; 

As out in " life " we wandered far, to yearn 
For her whose welcome never failed to make 

Glad our return. 

Song. " Mother MacCree." 

Picture. Smiling old lady. (Her face framed in 
white cap, above kerchiefed shoulders, faces audi- 
ence; knitting in hand.) 

And then on memories' page a twilight scene ; 

For two we love the sunset's lingering ray ; 
The quiet hour ; the time of folded hands ; 

At close of day. 

Song. " The End of a Perfect Day," or, " Silver 
Threads Among the Gold." 

Picture. Two old people. (Sitting peacefully 
side by side; his hand on hers on an open Bible; they 
look dreamily off into space; a fireplace would make 
a suitable background.) 

A later picture comes, that brings a throb 

To hearts that love and fear, and thrill with pride. 

As, answering to the ringing call of right 
He leaves our side. 

Song. " Over There" 

Picture. Soldier boy. (Ready to march away; 
turned slightly from audience; splendidly erect.) 



PICTURED SONGS 19 

Another picture ; now with gladdened hearts 

We smile through tears, 
On a glad meeting ; on a dream come true, 

In better years. 

Song. " Long, Long Trail." 

Picture. Girl in white. (Coming with out- 
stretched hands to meet same soldier-boy, also with 
outstretched hands.) 

And over all, as in those memory days, 

There floats again to-night 
The emblem that forever we shall raise 

For God, and Home, and Right. 

Song. * Star Spangled Banner.'* 
Picture. Our flag. 



CARPET RAGS 

Scene. — Country sitting-room. Six ladies are en- 
gaged in piecing and winding carpet rags. Any num- 
ber may be added. 

Mrs. Miggs {holds up a strip of gray cloth). 
Lands! Mrs. Spooner, this looks for all the world 
like a piece of that Sunday-go-to-meetin' coat of your 
Gran'pa Brown's. 

Mrs. Spooner. It is; and upon my word I felt 
real guilty cuttin' it up for carpet rags. Gran'pa was 
so choice of it; but it seemed a shame to leave it 
hangin' there in the closet any longer, a livin' invita- 
tion to the moths. 

Mrs. Snippet {aside to Miss Pepper). No moth 
would ever get a foothold onto that coat, it was wore 
so shiny and slippery. 

Mrs. Spooner. Gran'pa was really an ancestor to 
be proud of. (Miss Pepper sniffs.) He was such 
a genteel old man. In his palmy days they do say 
he was a regular Beau Brummel, and the best dancer 
in Spoonerville. 

Miss Pepper {to Mrs. Snippet). Bow-legged as 
a pair of tongs. 

Mrs. Ketchum. Yes, I remember my grandma, 
on my mother's side, speakin' of Mr. Obadiah Brown's 
dancin' herself. This pink cashmere is a piece of a 
gown of hers. She was a good dancer too, I've 
heard tell; but singin' was her strong point. (Miss 
Pepper and Mrs. Snippet exchange meaning 

20 



CARPET RAGS ' 21 

glances.) She was the highest soprano in the Pres- 
byterian church in Spoonerville, and they do say the 
congregation was just swep' off their feet when her 
voice soared into the belfry. (Mrs. Snippet pokes 
Miss Pepper in the ribs.) 

Miss Willing. Dear me, ladies ! Here's a piece 
of my mother's wedding gown, as sure as you live. 
We've got a picture home of her and Pa as bride and 
groom, took in this very same dress. If there was 
ever two hearts that beat as one they was it. (Miss 
Pepper has a coughing fit.) Why, I hardly ever 
heard Ma make a remark without Pa sanctioned it. 
" She's right," he'd say. I recollect distinc'ly one 
occasion when the minister was callin* at our house. 
Ma she says disconsolate-like, — " Parson Sparrow, 
I'm a miserable sinner," and Pa he spoke right up 
same as usual. " She's right," he says, noddin', and 
Ma was real put out about it. After the minister 
was gone she told him she wished he'd consider be- 
fore he spoke next time. 

Mrs. Snippet. See this piece of striped silk? 
Mandy Miller give me that yesterday among some 
others, and I'll wager it's a piece of one of Sylvann's 
neckties. It looks just like his dude style. Always 
scorned the notion of anything like a trade, Syl has ; 
though I'd like to know where he'd get them kid 
gloves and patent-leathers if it wasn't for his father 
shoein' horses from daylight till dark. But Syl he 
aims to be something he says. So now he's tryin' 
bein' a book-agent, sellin' " Men That Might Have 
Been President," and " Consummation of High 
Aims," from door to door. His mother says his 
very expression of face shows the struggles of mind 
and intellect, but I say, and stick to it, it's tight shoes. 

Mrs. Miggs. I've always been so glad my son 
William was the practical kind. This is a strip of 



22 ANY-DA V ENTERTAINMENTS 

his first little colored dress. My ! But Willie looked 
cute in it. 

Mrs. Spooner. He certainly did, Mrs. Miggs. I 
remember as if it was yesterday. 

Miss Pepper (aside to Mrs. Snippet). Mouth 
reached from ear to ear, and nose turned up so far 
his hat blowed off when he sneezed. 

Mrs. Ketchum. Lands ! If here ain't a piece of 
a green alpaca of James Henry's maiden aunt's, 
Aunt Eliza Crabtree. If I'd 'a' noticed it when I 
was getting pieces together I don't know as I'd had 
the moral courage to put it in; though the way she 
leavened the whole family, and friends included, 
there'd be something missin' in my rugs if she wasn't 
represented real prominent. But I dare say the rug 
she's in'll trip up everybody who walks over it. 
Lands knows, nobody never walked over her if she 
knew it. She's one of his family I can speak of 
right plain without his takin' offence. 

Mrs. Snippet (to Miss Pepper). If she did but 
know it, her son Jim's a branch right off that same 
old crab-tree. 

Mrs. Ketchum. Yes, and here's a piece of his 
sister Eliza's sprigged muslin she wore when she was 
along about seventeen. I do say it was an awful risk 
namin' a child after Aunt Eliza, and I've told Mother 
Ketchum so; but as it turned out 'Liza was totally 
different. Now don't for the lands sakes tell it, but 
between you and me and the lamp-post, poor 'Liza 
she was crossed in love, an' it was her criss-cross old 
aunt done it too. She vowed she was comin' to live 
with 'em soon as they was married, bein' 'Liza's 
namesake, an' that scared him so — he was one of 
them chicken-hearted Simpkinses anyway, — that one 
day poor "Liza got a note from him in poetry, some- 
thin' like this : — 



CARPET RAGS 2 3 

Eliza dear, I must part from thee, 

As 'tis the only way for me 

To cut asunder from Miss Crabtree, — 

and more to that effect. And he left it with a bunch 
of flowers and cleared out. And before the flowers 
was faded, in spite of her grief, she had her picture 
took with 'em, and if it didn't express the melancholy 
blightin' of young love then I never expect to see it 
portrayed. But I'm glad to say — lend me your scis- 
sors just a minute, Miss Willing, won't you? — she 
recovered in time and married the town constable, and 
he was one man that could manage Aunt Eliza, con- 
sequently she took to stoppin' around with the rest 
of us. (Sighs.) 

Mrs. Miggs. Dear me, ladies, here's a piece of my 
blue silk I wore the first time I met my Samuel. He 
was visitin' in our town then. I've got a poem laid 
away in the dictionary over there on the table that he 
wrote that I'll read to you if you want me to. (All 
assent eagerly and Mrs. Miggs takes a yellowed paper 
from between the leaves of the dictionary and un- 
folds it.) 

Mrs. Snippet (to Miss Pepper). Sam Miggs an' 
poetry go together about as good as a steam-engine 
climbin' a tree. 

Mrs. Miggs. He slid it into my hand one Sunday 
mornin' after church and then went off down the road 
like greased lightnin'. It's called " A Tribute." 

O, sweetest of maidens, 
Fair Caroline Spooner. 
Accept my fond homage, 
The better the sooner. 
The rose on your cheek 
-Is my favorite flower. 



24 ANY-DAY ENTERTAINMENTS 

The light of your eye 
Beats the sunlight for power. 
Though my manner's aloof, 
And my tongue a poor suitor, 
When I'm with fair Carrie 
I'll try hard to suit her. 
If I may see you home 
After meeting to-night, 
Wear a bow of red ribbon 
Please, out in plain sight. 

Miss Pepper (to Mrs. Snippet). Red ribbon 
with her complexion. She must 'a' looked like a 
poppy in a fit. 

Mrs. Miggs (continues). Now that bow of red 
ribbon caused me somewhat of anxiety and maneu- 
verin'. In the first place I had to borrow it of Sister 
Ann, and she havin' had similar experiences mis- 
trusted right off 

Mrs. Snippet (to Miss Pepper). Yes, Ann set 
her cap, bows and all for Jim Hen Ketchum 

Miss Pepper (giggling). And didn't ketch 'im 
after all, eh ? 

Mrs. Miggs (continues). And the only way I 
could keep her still was by givin' her my piece of 
pumpkin pie for dinner besides her own, which was 
hard on me, pumpkin bein' my favorite. But my 
feelin's prompted me to wear that bow of red ribbon, 
and I stuck it real conspicuous on one side of my bon- 
net, which bein* pale blue showed it up real well. I 
had to keep the other side towards Ma, — which was 
awkward at times, — or I knew Samuel's budding 
hopes would get frost bitten right then and there. 
But with Ann aidin' and abettin' me, everything went 
off all right, and that was the beginnin' of our court- 
ship, Samuel's and mine. 



CARPET RAGS 25 

Mrs. Spooner. Do you folks remember Dorothy 
Evalina Wiggins? This is a piece of a dress of hers 
that I made for her when she boarded at our house 
one summer. My husband will have it that she's 
some relation. This is how it is; his nephew Cor- 
nelius's first wife's widowed father married his sec- 
ond wife's widowed mother, and Dorothy's their 
child. And Adolphus sticks to it that makes her a 
step-niece or something. We let the settin' room fire 
go out one night last winter bein' so wrought up over 
his tryin' to explain the relationship to me. But any- 
how Dorothy's a real sweet child and I concluded it 
was better to accept the relationship than to set there 
and freeze over Dolphus's arguments. 

Miss Pepper (to Mrs. Snippet). Everybody 
knows all Dolph Spooner married her for was just to 
have somebody to argue with. He courted Lindy 
Allen first and she was so meek she even agreed with 
him when he declared that a punkin flower was way 
ahead of a rose, and after that he quit comin\ 

Miss Willing. Speakin' of Cornelius, ain't it a 
pity he made such a poor choice of a second wife. 

Mrs. Snippet (behind her hand to Miss Pepper). 
'Tain't her fault he didn't choose different. 

Miss Willing (continues). Flighty young thing, 
and extravagant's no name for her. She's wearin' 
the second bran new hat since she married Cornelius, 
and that only five years ago. Wears awful gay 
clothes too. She did say, though, once when she was 
mad at him, she hoped to get a set of black clothes 
soon. Said it real spiteful, right to his face. And 
from the first she set her foot down and wouldn't 
wear a single one of his first wife's dresses, and one a 
perfectly good brown alpaca that she hadn't wore 
more than four winters, and a splendid black sateen 
with purple polka-dots in it. 



26 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Mrs. Spooner. Well, I always said Cornelius'd 
never get another one like Sally. Why, she was so 
fore-handed she got all her spring house-cleanin' done 
by the last of February, and she had the children 
wearin' their flannels by the middle of September. 
And she was always so afraid company would come, 
and not find her beds made, she used to roll the 
children up in shawls and carry 'em down to the 
settin' room lounge to finish their naps, so as to get 
all the rooms red up by sunrise. But dear me! 
Them two poor forgetful children don't seem to 
realize what they've lost and are all wrapped up in 
their stepmother. I went there one day and the 
whole three of 'em was playin' tag in the back yard, 
and she didn't seem a mite ashamed neither. 

Miss Pepper (to Mrs. Snippet). Guess she keeps 
Co'neil steppin' some, too. He don't look near as 
much as if he didn't have sense enough to come in 
out of the rain as he used to, now'days. 

Mrs. Ketchum (with pride, holding up a gay 
striped silk piece). Ain't this handsome? It's a 
piece of my Cynthia's last new dress. Dear me ! It 
don't seem but yesterday since she begged her Pa's 
consent to marry Martin Brown. James Henry hated 
to part with Cynthy, he's so proud of her. He says 
that's the first trade his family ever made with the 
Browns where the Browns come out ahead, but I tell 
him that ain't no creditable remark to make. 

Mrs. Snippet (to Miss Pepper). 'Tain't only the 
Browns that's come into possession of one of Jim 
Hen's horses that'll stand without hitchin'. 

Mrs. Miggs. Well, I declare if here ain't a piece 
of Cousin Amelia Higgins'es purple Merino ! Jerry's 
wife, she is, and I do say he must V been near-sighted 
when he picked out Amelia. But the worst is, her 
looks goes further than skin deep. She's just about 



CARPET RAGS 27 

the contrariest mortal the sun ever shone on. Does 
her washin' on Saturdays, and sweepin' on Tuesdays, 
and the land knows what all in between to keep her 
family upset. But folkses' contrariness will turn on 
'em some day, and sure enough, one afternoon she 
went up to Sister Ann's, and she would set down 
onto the settee with Ann urgin' her to take a rocker. 
I s'pose she thought Ann didn't want her to muss up 
the sofa pillows. But, no-siree ! Down she plumps 
right on 'em, and the top one fresh painted by Louisa. 
Well, Ann said she didn't begrudge the spoilin' of 
that pillow, nor Louisa neither, when they seen the 
look on Amelia's face. And she daresn't say a word, 
knowin' it was her own stubbornness done it. Well, 
Jerry told Samuel on the sly that it took her all the 
next mornin' and a gallon of gasoline to get that 
landscape off her dress. 

(A laugh goes round.) 

Mrs. Miggs. And now before I bring in the re- 
freshments, I'll read you a poem Sam wrote special 
for this occasion : 



Go through all your old rag bags ; 
Hunt up stuff for carpet-rags. 

Pick out all the odds and ends 
That used to deck familiar friends. 

Cut up all the gayest pieces 

Of uncles, nephews, aunts and nieces, 

Grandpa, Grandma ; want them all 
So's to make a good pound ball. 



28 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Here's our little Johnnie's trousers, 
Here's that ribbon bow of Towser's ; 

Little Annie's pinafore, 

The old red shirt your father wore. 

Cousin Mollie's bombazine, 
Aunt Matilda's gray moreen ; 

Uncle Ezra's linen duster ; 
Cousin Simon's old brown ulster. 

Black and yellow, pink and blue ; 
Every kind, and every hue. 

While you're making your selection 
Up will pop some recollection ; 

Part and parcel of us all 
Goes into that carpet ball. 



CURTAIN 



RATHER BE THE HORN 

(A boy's recitation) 

Six boys with auto horns should be stationed in 
different parts of the audience room, and as the 
speaker reaches the end of a stanza, and says, — 
" rather be the horn," a "toot! toot!" startles some 
section of the room (As previously arranged.), each 
boy producing a horn from some place of conceal- 
ment near him, and blowing it lustily. 

Say ! when Jimmy Miggs, and Johnny Brown, 

And Tom, and Dick, and me, 
Was pickin' out which part a " flivver " 

We had rather be, 
Didn't take me long to say 
What Fd speak for any day, — 
Bet yer life I'd be the hootin' tootin' horn. 
(Toot! toot!) 

Jimmy Miggs was kinda thinkin' 

He would be the fuel tank ; 
Then he guessed he'd be the starter, 

But he wouldn't be the crank. 
Humph ! some day he'd start the whole blame 
thing 
A-climbin' up a bank. 
Not for me, — you bet I'd rather be the horn. 
(Toot! toot!) 
29 



30 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Johnny Brown he most made up his mind 

That he would be the shoe ; 
Then he kinda thought he'd like to be 

The wheel and axle too. 
Then he guessed he'd be the tires, 

Keep a-goin' round and round. 
Wonder how he'd like the punctures 

And the tacks that's on the ground ? 
Not for me, — you bet I'd rather be the horn. 
(Toot! toot!) 



Tom he said if he was choosin', 

He would like to be the clutch; 
(But you bet if he was it he'd get 

That " flivver " all in Dutch). 
Then he said he'd be the brake, 

Give the folks an awful shake. 
(But I bet he'd end by stoppin' 

On the wrong side of a lake.) 
Not for me, — you bet I'd rather be the horn. 
(Toot! toot!) 



Dick he said he'd be the chassy 

'Cause it braces up the rest ; — 
(Thought that sounded awful classy, 

But it wouldn't suit me best.) 
Then he said he'd be the hood, 

'Cause it always got there first; 
(But I asked him how'd he like it 

When the engine went and burst?) 
Not for me,— you bet I'd rather be the horn. 
(Toot! toot!) 



RATHER BE THE HORN 3 1 

Gee ! I'd like to be the horn, and keep 

A-hootLn' an' a-howlin', 
Keep the folks on foot a-hoppin', 

An' the cranky ones a-growlin'. 
Toot ! a-goin' round a corner ; 

Toot ! a-comin' up a hill ! 
Toot ! at absent-minded people ; 

Toot ! an' toot ! an' toot ! until 
I had tooted all the toots I've 

Always wanted to, and will 
If I ever have the luck to be the horn ! 

(Toots! from every horn in the room.) 



WHEN FRIEND MEETS FRIEND 

A well-dressed shopper meets another well-dressed 
shopper. They pause in mutual recognition. 

First Lady. My dear Mrs. DeRiviera, this is a 
surprise! {Turns her head, and motions toward an 
imaginary chauffeur.) Just a moment, James. {To 
Second Lady.) Why, I haven't seen you for ages! 

Second Lady. I know it. It's hideous, losing 
sight of one's friends so! 

F. L. My dear, I haven't glimpsed you since the 
Bridge party at Helen Whitcombe's, centuries ago. 

S. L. About a thousand years! I've just been 
dying to see you. How are you anyway ? 

F. L. Oh, I've a perfectly frightful cold. 

S. L. Have you, really? Isn't it ghastly! I 
nearly died with one myself last week. 

F. L. Oh, I just cough my head off, and sneeze 
until I'm in fragments. 

S. L. I know. There's simply nothing worse, ab- 
solutely nothing! Mamma's a perfect wreck with 
one at the present time. 

F. L. We've a regular hospital at our house. 
Alice nearly dying with toothache, and the cook in 
agony with a sprained wrist. 

S. L. My dear ! How do you manage to get any- 
thing to eat ? 

F. L. We simply starve. Nothing but chops, and 
a salad, and the simplest kind of desserts for days. 
And hasn't it been freezing weather? 

S. L. Frightful ! I thought I should perish before 
32 



WHEN FRIEND MEETS FRIEND 33 

the trolley came along. Our car has some horrible 
thing the matter with it, and we are driven to patron- 
izing these creeping trolleys. You simply can't see 
them move. 

F. L. I know it. But sometimes one must come 
to it, this awful weather. I nearly froze to death 
yesterday walking the block to Lila's. 

S. L. Oh ! How does she like her new house ? 

F. L. Adores it. But, my dear, they overheat it 
frightfully. I thought I should smother while I was 
there. 

S. L. And the stores are so horribly warm too. 
I'm nearly melted from shopping. 

F. L. So am I. I expected to pass away any 
minute in Van Twill's. But the fur coats are so dis- 
tracting. I simply couldn't tear myself away. 

S. L. Oh! Are you getting a fur coat? I'm 
dying for one. 

F. L. Well, I haven't exactly come to a decision, 
but I must buy something to wear. I'm in rags. 

S. L. So am I. I expect this suit to go to pieces 
any minute. 

F. L. My dear, I'm threadbare. Positively. I've 
worn this thing for ages. I got it in Thayer's as far 
back as last February. 

S. L. And old clothes are so frightfully depress- 
ing! By the way, have you anything on hand for 
this afternoon? 

F. L. Oh, the Literary Meet at Mrs. Van Scuy- 
ler's. Her latest fad, you know. Horrible bore. 

S. L. Ye-es, isn't it? However, I must go this 
afternoon myself, as I've a paper to read. 

F. L. Really? How perfectly delightful ! Why, 
I wouldn't miss it for worlds! What is your sub- 
ject? 

S. L. Better Speech. Positively inane, isn't it? 



34 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Horrible to be asked to waste one's gray matter on 
such an utterly absurd thing. It might do for some 
people, but in our cultured circle, where good English 
is second nature — mon dieu ! 

F. L. But I know you will give us something en- 
chantingly enlightening nevertheless. And, my dear, 
why not have luncheon with me and go together? 

S. L. Charming, dear flatterer. 

F. L. My dear, you will ? 

S. L. Darling, I'd love to. 

F. L. Isn't it perfectly wonderful that we met? 
{Beckons.) James, we're ready now. (And they 

go-) 



TWO LITTLE GIRLS IN BLUE 

A new rendering of an old song. 

On the platform is a large frame as for tableaux, 
with a curtain across it. When the soloist reaches 
the zvords " Met two little girls in blue " the curtain is 
drawn aside, revealing two quaintly-dressed maidens, 
all in blue; poke bonnets framing their faces; mitted 
hands clasped primly on strings of little shirred bags. 

Unlike tableaux, they go through coquettish mo- 
tions as singer progresses. 

Soloist, at side of the stage, sings to the tune of 
the old song, " Two Little Girls in Blue," the follow- 
ing zvords: — 

An old man gazed on a photograph 

He'd had in his pocket for years ; 
His nephew asked him the reason why 

The picture had caused him tears. 
He said : " Listen, my lad, and you shall know 

A story both strange and true. 
Your father and I, at school one day, 

Met two little girls in blue." 

(They appear in frame.) 

Chorus : — 
Two little girls in blue, lad ! 
Two little girls in blue. 
They were sisters, we were brothers, 
And learned to love the two. 

35 



36 ANY-DAY ENTERTAINMENTS 

One little girl in blue, lad, 

Won your father's heart ; 

But she turned him down, and he left the town, 

And so they drifted apart. 

{One maid hangs head guiltily at words t( she 
turned him down.") 

The old man sighed o'er the photograph 

He'd had in his pocket for years. 
" Ah, lad, the sweetness of my girl's face ! 

Those sisters were truly dears ! 
But brother somehow had missed his luck. 

I still hoped to woo and wed. 
And one day I asked her the question, and 

Was shocked when 'twas ' no ' she said." 

Chorus : — 

Two little girls in blue, lad, 

Two little girls in blue. 

They were sisters, we were brothers, 

And learned to love the two. 

One little girl in blue, lad, 

Cruelly jilted me. 

She coldly said, ' We shall never wed/ 

And so I went off to sea. 

{Other maid hangs head guiltily.) 

" The years went by and we both came back ; 

We had found two loving wives. 
We wondered what had become of those maids 

Who'd blighted our youthful lives. 
The neighbors said they were misses still ; 

We couldn't believe 'twas true, 
Till we one day met them upon the street, 

Those two little girls in blue." 



TWO LITTLE GIRLS IN BLUE $7 

{At this point the accompanist attracts the atten- 
tion of the audience by suddenly exclaiming, "Say, 
Bill, where 'd this all happen? PleasantvUlef " or 
some small town familiar to the audience. During 
this brief " aside " the two little maids face about and 
the audience looks back upon " two old maids in 
blue/' false faces of the sourest elderly female kind 
procurable having been placed in backs of bonnets, 
which appear like fronts; backs of costumes giving 
same effect. Hands clasp bags as when in front.) 

Singer gives chorus: — 
Two o-old maids in blue, lad, 
Two o-old maids in blue. 
They were sisters, we were brothers, 
And learned to love the two. 
Two little maids in blue, lad, 
Might have been our wives ! 
Say! You never know what you've missed. 

Ain't it so ? 
And the might-have-beens in your lives ! 



CURTAIN 



WHEN FOLKS LOOKS AT YOU SO 

I can stand goin' to bed without supper, 
And I don't mind a scoldin' or so ; 

But the way that folks looks at me sometimes 
Is more than this feller can go. 

It makes me feel all kind of squirmy, 

And small as the head of a pin. 
And I want to get out of sight somewheres, 

And wisht that the floor'd sink in. 

Once I sassed my school-teacher, — a nice one — 
She was always as good as could be, — 

And I knowed I deserved a good lickin', 
But she just looked that queer way at me, 

Her eyes kind of s'prised-like and sorry, 
And her face just as grave as a judge. 

Well ! That look kind of froze me all over, 
And I set there, and just couldn't budge. 

If she'd scolded real hard I'd felt better; 

Or a beatin's soon over, you know ; 
But I tell you the thing that stays by you 

Is when any one looks at you so. 

I ain't a boy given to swearing 

But I expressed myself strongly one day 

When things didn't just go to suit me, 
And then Mother looked at me that way. 

38 



WHEN FOLKS LOOKS AT YOU SO 39 

Now Father most likely'd boxed me, 
But mothers does diff'rent, you know. 

Ain't it queer ! but I've noticed most always 
It's the ladies that looks at you so. 

I expect that it's good for folks sometimes 

To be made to feel terrible small ; 
And to take the starch all out completely, 

Them kind of looks just do beat all ! 



JAMIE'S UNCLE ANDY 

The funniest man I ever knew 

Is Jamie's great-uncle Andy. 
He doesn't talk so very much, 

But when he does, — my landy ! 

He says the queerest kind of things 

In the funniest sort of way ; 
And Jamie and I just never know 

What his Uncle Andy'll say. 

The other day I was over there, 

And Jamie and I fell out, 
And argued and talked till we hardly knew 

What we started to quarrel about. 

" Thole weel is an unco fine cowt, my lads," 

Said Uncle Andy then, 
" Now sit ye low an' please yersel's 

An' dinna start chappin agin, 

Or I'll gi'e ye a noggin' o' birchin' broth. 

An' dinna ye skelly at me, 
Or ye'll laugh oot the ither side o' yer mouth. 

Bad cess to yer noise ! " said he. 

" Better the hinner end o' a feast 

Than beginnin' a quarrel as ye've set in. 
Now hain ye wun to cool yer broth, 

Ye maun cool in the skin ye got net in." 
40 



JAMIE'S UNCLE ANDY 41 

And Jamie and I we couldn't quarrel, 

For we had to laugh instead. 
And his Uncle Andy he laughed too, 

And shook till his face was red. 






PIG LATIN 

The days are getting nice and warm; 

And it doesn't seem quite fair 
For Mother to say, — " Wait a while, 

A chill is in the air." 



And th' other day when my cousin Lou 

Was over playing with me, 
And th' sun was shining splendid, and 

'Twas hot as hot could be, — 

And the violets were out quite some, 

And dandelions too ; — 
Well — I just thought of something — 

Just the greatest fun to do. 

But Mother might say "no," and she 

Was in the room we sat in, — 
So I thought I'd better say 't to Lou 

By talking in Pig Latin. 

So I said, — not so very loud, — 
" Leggledy gogledy downgeldy togeldy the- 
geldy brookledy 
Angeldy takeldy ourgeldy shoegeldy angledy 
stockledy offgeldy 
Whengledy Mothergeldy doesn'tgeldy lookledy.' 
42 



PIG LATIN 43 

And Lou and me we giggled so 
When she said : " Yougledy betgeldy ! " 

And then she said so funny, " but 
Don'gledy geggledy yourgledy feetgledy all- 
gledy wetgledy." 

And then, — why, Mother said, and how 

She knew I just can't see, — 
Andgledy tomorgledy whengledy you'regledy 
sickledy ingledy bedgledy, 

Howgledy fungledy itgledy willgledy begledy." 

She sewed right on, and Lou and me, 

We thought we wouldn't go. 
Who'd s'posed she knew Pig Latin too ? 

That's what I want to know ! 



HOW SONNY BEAT 

He was a tiny little chap, 

But full of pluck and vim ; 
And when he undertook a thing 

There was no stopping him. 

One day his mother and his dad 

Were going down the stair, 
When energetic Sonny thought 

He'd beat them getting there. 

Upon the steps his sturdy feet 

Started a quick tattoo. 
Though they had much the start of him, 

He wormed his body through. 

With gay, defiant, daring laugh, 
Beyond their reach he tripped ; — 
" Me beat you down ! " he challenged, — 
Then somehow his footing slipped ! 

From step to step he thumped and bumped, 

To their intense alarm. 
Speechless, and helplessly they watched, 

Certain he'd come to harm. 

But suddenly he reached the foot, 
Picked himself up, while they 
Gasped open-mouthed to hear him laugh, — 
" Me beat you anyway ! " 



44 



THE SERENADE 

Two college youths appear. They are very pro- 
nounced as to style of clothing, ties, socks, etc. Fred, 
with mandolin under his arm, strolls across stage first. 
As he reaches center, Ferd hurries on and calls: — 

Ferd. Hi ! there, Fred ! 

Fred (pauses and turns as Ferd overtakes him). 
Hello ! old top. What's up ? 

Ferd. Fred, I need your help ! 

Fred (begins to shake head negatively). Can't be 
done, Ferdie. Golf-sticks yesterday; last silk shirt 
day before; patent leather pumps day before that; 
and — say ! you've got your suit-case left, — hock that. 

Ferd. Oh, it isn't money 

Fred (in accents of surprise). Not money? 
(Anxiously.) Are you sick, old man? 

Ferd (hand on heart). Well, not exactly; but — 
I don't feel so fit, — ah 

Fred. Out with it ! 

Ferd. Freddy, I — I'm in love ! 

Fred (reproachfully). Again, Ferdie? 

Ferd. But it's serious this time 

Fred (reminiscently). Last time I loaned you my 
canoe, and you upset that, and near drowned Mollie. 
Anyhow, it's Bill's now, so you can't borrow that from 
me. Time before, I let you have the last of my belt 
buckle money to buy chocolates; and Gladys pre- 
ferred ice-cream ; and time before that you borrowed 
my " Love Sonnets " to read to Annabel, and left it 
in the Park in the rain, and 

45 



46 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Ferd (meekly). I know, Freddy, and I'm sorry; 
but it's nothing like that this time. It's your music 
I want. 

Fred (holds mandolin off to one side away from 
Ferd). Ferd, if you want me to hock my mandolin, 
I tell you now I 

Ferd (spreads hands in urgent denial of such in- 
tention). Far be it from me to 

Fred. Nor will I loan it 

Ferd. Freddy, I never dreamed of 

Fred (perplexed). Well, Ferdie, you can't eat 
it 

Ferd. You see, it's this way, Fred. Up at Pro- 
fessor Fell's, — his niece 

Fred (looks enlightened). Oh-h! 

Ferd. She's adorable! And only there a week; 
and I must make an impression at once 

Fred. And her name is ? 

Ferd. Fanny. 

Fred. Fanny Fell ? 

Ferd. Yes. 

Fred. How far did Fanny fall? 

Ferd. This is no time for idle jesting! 

Fred. Do you expect Fanny to fall for you? 
And how? 

Ferd. I want to serenade her. 

Fred. Ferdie, there's an ordinance against un- 
necessary and objectionable noise. It says 

Ferd. Be serious, old man ! This concerns my 
whole future happiness. 

Fred. Well ! where do I come in ? 

Ferd. Well, you see, it's this way, Freddy. I can 
sing but (Fred has a violent attack of cough- 
ing. Ferd continues, after giving Fred a suspicious 
glance.) But I can't play. So I thought if you'd 
come with me, conceal yourself in the shrubbery be- 



THE SERENADE 47 

neath her window, and accompany me softly on your 
instrument I would sing — well — " O Sole Mio," for 
instance. And if she makes some favorable sign we'll 
come back again to-morrow night and perhaps by 

that time her heart will 

Fred (aside). Be broken. 
Ferd (with dignity). Be mine. 
Fred (strums " Sole Mio " lightly on his mando- 
lin. Sings comically.) 

Oh, Fanny! Fanny! 

Oh, Fanny Fell ! 

Just fancy, Ferdie, 

And all is well. 

But if your heart's untouch-ed, 

Oh, fare-thee-well, cold Fan-ny Fell — 

Ferd (eagerly). That's it! That fare-thee-well 
part. If she shows no sign of favoring my suit 

Fred. Which suit ? Black-and-white check or 

Ferd. Oh, shut up ! If she doesn't respond we'll 
try the Miserere, — " My Leonora, fare-thee-well ! " 

Fred. Yeh! like this! (Sings mockingly.) 

Oh! Oh! Fanny fell-oh-oh ! 
Fare-thee-well !— She'll fall for that ! 

Ferd (irritably). I wish you would be serious. 
I'm in deadly earnest. 

Fred (slaps him on the shoulder as they stroll off). 
All right, old Shuman-Hank-Caruso. We'll hunt up 
a deserted corner of the campus and try out your 
Spanish Cavalier stunt, and this evening we'll favor 
fair Fanny Fell. 

FIRST CURTAIN 



48 ANY-DA V ENTERTAINMENTS 

(That night. Darkness on stage except for a faint 
moonlight effect on the center of the stage. Rigged 
up on uprights at a height of about six feet, to be 
above serenaders, is a vine-wreathed open lattice win- 
dow, across which* hangs a net curtain; vines and 
shrubbery below. 

Fred and Ferd steal on; Fred with mandolin under 
his arm; Ferd in Romeo-like garb. Fred settles him- 
self cross-legged among vines, mandolin in position; 
Ferd tries out several attitudes beneath window; 
finally signals to Fred that he is ready. They have 
difficidty in starting together, — try it several times 
softly, before Ferd is satisfied to start out in full 
voice, hand over heart. 

Ferd sings soulfully, " O Sole Mio" or some 
equally appealing love-song. 

The window curtains begin to part slowly as he 
proceeds, and a charming face framed in lace-frilled 
boudoir cap above a dainty kimono shows for an 
instant in an attitude of charmed listener, and at the 
finish Fanny drops a rose upon the singer; with- 
draws behind the net curtains as Ferd presses the 
rose to his lips.) 

SECOND CURTAIN 

(Second night. 

The serenaders appear as before; station them- 
selves and give a second love-song. No sign at the 
curtained zvindow. 

^ Ferd gases up; listens; shakes head dejectedly, and 
signs to Fred to play; he sings the "Miserere " from 
" // Trovatore " with utmost pathos. 

Window curtains part suddenly and a skull-capped, 
spectacled head above pajamaed shoulders appears at 
opening. ) 



THE SERENADE 49 

Prim masculine voice says. Young gentlemen, if 
this demonstration is for the edification and enlighten- 
ment of my young female relative, your efforts are 
inopportune and extremely disconcerting to me at 
this time. Miss Fanny Fell fared forth this morn- 
ing on the Fall River boat bound for Fish Flats. 
Good-evening ! 

( Withdraws head as Ferd falls back against Fred.) 
CURTAIN 



WHEN ELINORE IS THINKING 
OUT A POME 

You can't tell when it's coming on, 

Unless you see 'at she 
Ain't thinking what she's doin' 

An' is quiet as can be. 
If you notice 'at she's dusted 

The piano three times straight, 
Or takes things she don't like to eat 

An' heaps 'em on her plate, 
With her eyes a-lookin' way, way off, — 

Well, th' ain't nobody home, 
As far as us folks matters, 

When she's thinkin' out a pome. 

An' if you're wise, you take yourself 

Off somewheres out of sight — 
Till when she gets that pome of hers 

All down in black and white. 
For when she gets her writin' things 

An' wanders off alone, 
She don't want no companionship 

Except her very own. 
An' Pa and Ma and all of us 

Step sof 'ly round our home ; 
An' holds our breath when Elinore 

Is thinkin' out a pome. 

Sometimes I'm so unlucky 

As not to see the signs ; 
An' go a-rushin' in to show her 

My new fishin' lines ! 

50 



WHEN ELINORE IS THINKING OUT A POME 5 1 

You bet I wisht I'd noticed 

'At that poetry was brewin', 
For she'll send her pad an' pencil 

Flyin' clean across the room, 
An' say she " never saw such folks ! 

An idiot had ought 
To keep from interruptin' 

In the middle of a thought." 

That now I've " gone and spoiled it all." 

And she can never be 
A writer, if she has to live 

With selfish folks like me. 
Ma says it's " genius," but you bet 

It gets a different name 
When I go throwin' things around, 

And actin' 'bout the same. 
But when she puts me in a pome 

She sure forgets, for she 
Writes up a darlin' little kid 

You'd never take for me. 

But gee ! We're all swelled up with pride 

When it goes into print. 
An' make sure 'at the neighborhood 

And friends all get a squint. 
An' we don't let on we've suffered 

An' gone through storm an' stress. 
The neighbors think 'at pomes just grow 

About like flowers, I guess. 
But us — we draw a nice long breath, 

An' feel once more at home. 
Just in between-times when she ain't 

A-thinkin' out a pome. 



JUST LIKE ME 

Our teacher told us yesterday 

She'd give us a motto to carry away. 
She said it would do for anywhere ; 

School, or church, if we were there. 
That maybe we'd better begin at home, 

And try it out in that place some ; — 
" What kind of a place would our house be 

If all the people were just like me? " 

This morning I got up too late, 

And had to hurry, — a thing I hate. 
Couldn't find anything anywhere ; 

And came down-stairs cross as a bear. 
S'pose I got out the wrong side the bed. 

And then that motto popped in my head ; — 
" What kind of a place would our house be 

If all the people were just like me? " 

I looked across the table where Mother 

And Father were talking away to each other ; 
And noticed Dad's hair was parted straight, 

And his elbows weren't most in his plate ; 
And Sister's collar was clean and white ; 

And her necktie was tied so it looked just right ; 
Nobody — far as I could see, 

Looked or acted " just like me." 

And I tried to picture Mother there 

With a cross-patch face and frowsy hair; 

Chuckin' her food in her mouth the way 
A farmer pitches a load of hay ; 
52 



JUST LIKE ME 53 

And making a gobbly kind of sound ; 

And pushing and pulling things all around; 
And I was thankful as I could be 

That Mother didn't act " just like me/' 

I was glad that Dad's face wasn't scowly, 
And his voice didn't sound all growly ; 
He hadn't found fault with his breakfast food ; 

Nor said that the coffee wasn't good ; 
Nor his toast too crusty, — nor wanted to know 
" Say, why ain't this button on ? Can't folks 
sew?" 
" What kind of a place," I thought, " Whew-ee ! 
If all the people were just like me." 

And Sis wasn't hunting around for her hat, 

And blaming the rest ; — nor kicking the cat 
Because it happened to be in the way ; 

And making a rumpus to start the day. 
Well ! to get that old motto out of my head 

I'm going to get out the right side the bed 
For I don't care to picture how things would be 

" If all the people were just like me." 



FOUR UNFORTUNATES 

Tune. " There Was An Old Soldier." Played by 
concealed musician. 

Thump! thump! thump-thump! thump-thump! 
Thump-thump! thump-thump! thump! is heard in 
time to tune, and a disreputable-looking old one- 
legged fellow appears leaning on a cane. His other 
leg hidden beneath long ulster. He keeps up the 
thump-thump! as he recites. 

First One-legged Long-coated Man. 

I used to be a sailor on the schooner Nancy Lee ; 

And as trim a little schooner I shall never hope to see. 

But one day I had an accident out on a little lark, 

You see I tried to take a ride upon a swimmm' shark ! 

The shark he let me get aboard, he didn't seem to 
mind. 

But before I got back safely, why, I'd left one leg 
behind. 

He seemed to grow so fond of me, — and I, I fell 
bereft ! 

But the rest the crew they loved me too, and res- 
cued what was left. 

Second One-legged, Long-coated Man {appears 
and says). 
Heigho ! heigho ! How do you do, my comrade in 

distress ? 
You've met up with an accident the same as me I 

guess. 

54 



FOUR UNFORTUNATES 55 

I used to be a travelling man, and noted for my speed 
In selling out a line of goods. A cracker- jack indeed ! 
One day I travelled most too fast, to catch a train, 

you see ; 
I never shall get over how that train got over me. 
They told me that I lost my head, but just the same 

I find 
My head was not the part of me I had to leave behind. 

Third One-legged Man {appears and says). 
Ah ! May I join your company ? I sort of hesitate 
To thrust myself upon you, but we've met a common 

fate. 
I was a lion-tamer, and I stood on two good feet, 
Till one day the beastie thought that I looked good 

enough to eat. 
Well ! to tell the long and short of it that lovin' little 

beast 
Now has another lion-tamer to supply the feast. 
To see a circus on parade I never care to do. 
For when the lion roars it sets me shakin' in me shoe. 

Fourth One-legged Man (thumps in and says). 
Good-morning to you brothers ! You have had bad 

luck I see. 
You're abbreviated somewhat just about the same as 

me. 
I used to drive a hacksy-cab, — 'twas rather hard to 

steer, — 
And one day the mule got frolicsome, and kicked me 

from the rear. 
I've never been the same since then, I kinda lost me 

pluck, 
The same time as I lost me limb, — I'm down now on 

me luck. 



56 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Suppose we kinda cast our lots together, — what you 

say? 
We might strike something in a bunch, if not the 

other way. 

Others nod assent. They cast aside canes, link 
arms and dance a jig on four legs to the same tune. 
They then wheel abruptly and jig off stage; their lost 
limbs held back of them to amusement of audience. 



A MULE NAMED JOE 

AND THE 

CIRCUS SHOW 

(This should be recited to the tune of " Turkey in 
the Straw" played softly and more and more briskly 
as Joe takes on speed.) 

There was an old mule and his name was Joe, 
And he didn't always stop when you hollered 

"whoa!" 
He belonged to a man named Mister Poe, 
And that old mule could certainly go ! 
He'd never stop for rain nor snow ; 
No matter how hard the wind did blow ; 
Once he set out he wasn't slow ; 
He dug right in, both heel and toe. 

Well, one day Poe decided to go 

To town to see a Circus Show ; 

He called his partner, Mrs. Poe, 

And said : " Now, dear, get your chapeau, 

And all the children, and we'll stow 

Them in the j agger- wagon, so 

We all can see the Circus Show. 

You can invite Luella's beau." 

She got out her pink calico, 
With every fluffy furbelow; 
And all the children with gusto 
Made the house look like a volcano. 

S7 



58 ANY-DAY ENTERTAINMENTS 

Their Ma stirred up a batch of dough, 
And cooked a mess of potato 
To take for lunch for the tribe of Poe, 
When they went to see the Circus Show. 

They rose next day with the early crow ; 

And started off in the morning glow. 
" Get ap ! now, Joe/' said Mister Poe, 
" We want to get to the early show, 

In time to set on the first front row, 

So we won't miss nothin'. Now ain't it so ? " 
" You bet it is," said Missis Poe, 
" And you best hold tight to your sombrero ! " 

Well, Joe lit out, — and he sure could go ! 

And all the neighbors said, " heigho ! 

It looks to me as if old man Poe 

Is takin' the folks to the Circus Show. 

And there's his corn that he'd ought to hoe 

Left all day for the weeds to grow ; 

And a field of hay that he'd ought to mow ; 

I bet that man will come to woe." 

As they rode along, Luella Poe 

Happened to see her Sunday beau ; 

And she cried, " Oh, Paw ! Pull Joe up slow, 

So we can ask Horaisch to go." 

So Papa Poe he hollered " Whoa ! " 

But it didn't put the brake on Joe. 

He flew right by Horatio, 

And Luella's tears did sadly flow. 

Just then Joe heard a whistle blow, 

And saw a train at the old dee-po, 

And he thought to himself, " How do I know 

But that's totin' folks to the Circus Show ! 



A MULE NAMED JOE 59 

It's up to me to beat 'em, so 
They won't get seats on the first front row 
That I've reserved for the house of Poe. 
Here's where you've got to speed up, Joe ! " 

Poor Missis Poe she hollered, " Oh ! " 
" We're goin' some ! " said small chap Poe. 
The children cried, " Pa, I dunno 
But what we'd ruther move more slow." 
But since he heard that whistle blow 
Starting out from the old dee-po, 
There wasn't any stopping Joe; 
He flew right by both friend and foe. 

Exactly like a tornado, 

With all the house of Poe in tow, 

Bobbing and lurching to and fro, 

And clutching each other with looks of woe. 

But as they gasped in fear's last throe 

All at once they ceased to go. 

Joe turned his head to wink, and lo ! — 

He'd landed 'em all in the first front row. 

[Note. This could be effectively recited by nine 
boys, each taking a verse in turn, and as they get to 
verse five they become animated as if driving Joe, 
and as he goes faster and faster they hold the reins 
more tightly, and keep time to hoof-beats with their 
feet, more and more rapidly until suddenly they stop 
at — 

" All at once he ceased to go." 
A hidden drummer might produce the hoof-beats.] 



MRS. FIDGETTI ON THE 
TROLLEY CAR 

A Monologue 

(A breathless lady comes in and goes through mo- 
tions of grasping backs of seats and straps as she 
lurches forward with presumable starting of car.) 

Oh, thank you ! thank you ! so much. (As she 
drops into seat evidently just vacated for her benefit. 
She breathes a sigh of relief, and sits back a second. 
All at once becomes agitated.) 

Conductor! Conductor! is this the right car for 
Darby Heights ? It is? Thank you so much. (Sub- 
sides again.) 

(Almost instantly thinks of something, tries to at- 
tract attention of conductor; fails, reaches out and 
tugs at imaginary coat-tail.) 

Oh, I wonder — please ask him if it stops at all 
the streets. I can't make him see me. Every other 
street ? Oh, dear me ! I forgot to ask you to ask 
him if it stops at Templeton Place. Won't you please 
ask him if it stops at Templeton Place ! 

Eighth Street the nearest ? Well, then I'll get off 
at Eighth. Or do you suppose it's nearer to get off 
at Eighth and walk forward, or Ninth and walk back- 
ward? You advise me to walk forward instead of 
backward. Well, now I guess that is perhaps more 
sensible. (Subsides, then recollects, — tugs again.) 
Oh, I forgot to thank you. I do thank you so much ! 

60 



MRS. FIDGETTI ON THE TROLLEY CAR 6l 

Fare? Oh, yes. (Opens bag, takes out purse, 
closes bag, opens purse.) Dear me! I haven't a 
thing less than a five-dollar bill. I'm so sorry. 
Wait — I might have some loose change in the bottom 
of my bag. (Opens bag, fishes out handkerchief, 
vanity case, keys, shopping-list, spectacle-case, string 
of beads, little mirror, samples, pencil and fountain- 
pen. At last unearths a nickel.) 

Isn't that good, now ! (Hands it to imaginary con- 
ductor; puts all the things back, except purse. Just 
closing bag when she notices conductor still waiting; 
looks surprised.) 

Oh ! It is seven cents now, isn't it ? I had for- 
gotten. If only your company wouldn't change 
every week or so one could remember what you were 
charging. Been seven cents for two years? Why 
man alive, it can't be. Why, I remember just as well 
I was going to call on — you are in a hurry ? Well, so 
am I in a hurry, and you are worrying me with all 
this fuss and fiddle. I wonder if I can find two cents 
more. (Opens bag, takes everything out again. 
Feels around in bottom of bag.) 

No, I can't feel another single cent there. Couldn't 
you charge it to me? You can't. Now that is 
ridiculous. Why, I use this system every day nearly. 
My husband is a well known — what? You needn't 
be rude about it. Oh ! (To imaginary person on left.) 
thank you so much! (Freezingly to conductor.) 
This lady is loaning me the two cents, so we need not 
discuss the matter further. ( To lady. ) That is per- 
fectly sweet of you. What is your name, so that I 
may send you a check? (Fishes for pencil among 
articles in lap. ) Oh ! do let me. I know I've a pen- 
cil here somewhere. Ah ! here it is. Well, all right, 
since you insist. And it is just lovely of you. (Puts 
articles back in bag; closes bag, suddenly exclaims.) 



62 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

My purse! Did I put it back? {Opens bag and 
hauls everything out again. Agitated greatly.) 

It isn't here ! Conductor ! Conductor ! My purse 
is gone! Have the car searched! What? (To 
right-hand neighbor.) In my lap! So it is. Oh, 
thank you so much. Never mind, conductor. 

(Opens bag and puts purse in; other things on top 
of it; — sits back — suddenly recollects something; 
opens bag, fishes out purse; opens it.) 

It is gone! Conductor! Conductor! My five- 
dollar bill is gone! (To right-hand neighbor.) In 
my lap? Why so it is. (Draws bill from under 
bag.) Never mind, conductor. (To neighbor.) 
Thank you so much. I must have left it there when 
I opened my purse and he couldn't change it. ( Tucks 
bill in purse; closes purse; opens bag; puts purse into 
it; closes bag; sits back; jumps suddenly.) 

Where are we? Ninth Street ! (Jumps up, sways, 
catches strap, pushes on.) Then I'm past Eighth 
street and Templeton Place, and have got to walk 
backward after all. Such service! Conductor! 
Conductor! Let me off at once. You should have 
told me when we came to Eighth Street. After giv- 
ing me so much trouble, too, about that absurd two 
cents ! Now I've got to walk backward after pay- 
ing my fare. I could easily make trouble for you, 
but I won't this time. I'm just one of the poor 
patient imposed-upon public. But next time I shall 
expect more courtesy from you, — don't forget. 



THE MAKE-BELIEVE BEAR 

'Twas a make-believe bear in a make-believe wood, 

With a terrible make-believe roar ; 
And the Littlest-bit-of-a-One in the game 

Didn't quite understand what 'twas for. 

But he struggled along to keep up with the rest, 

And did what they told him to do ; 
For of course it was only a make-believe game, 

The undaunted Littlest One knew. 

So he played be asleep in the heart of the wood, 
Till it came prowling growlingly by ; 

It looked like Big Brother, this make-believe bear, 
In spite of its threatening eye. 

And the Littlest One tried to think it was fun, 
As they played for an hour or more. 

He wouldn't have minded that make-believe bear 
Except for its make-believe roar-r-r-r ! 

Its head sticking out of a shaggy fur rug, 

So clumsily down on all four, 
It went " br-r-r-r ! " as it chased him around. 

Such a terrible make-believe roar-r-r ! 

And it carried him off to its make-believe den, 
Where the make-believe other bears stayed. 

And it said, — " Here's your dinner, a fat little boy." 
" Br-r-r ! " was the answer they made. 

63 



64 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

But when by and by came a really-true voice, — 
" Where's my baby ? " why somehow or other 

The Littlest One was as glad as could be 
That it wasn't a make-believe mother. 



DOWN AT AUNT MOLLIE'S 

Way off here on a great big farm, 

Ever so far from my home town ; 
Where you never see a taxi-cab, 

Nor a sign of a trolley, up nor down ; 
But most as many animals as our zoo, 

And birds, and flowers, and fruit-trees too, 
Lives Daddy's Auntie, and she's a dear; 

And I love to come and see her here. 

I asked her once where the subway is, 

And if she has a garage near by ? 
And told her about the limousine 

Of our next door neighbor's ; it's fine, Oh, my ! 
Then Auntie kind of sniffed, " My land ! 

Talk so's a body can understand." 

And I've had to 'xplain what asphalt is, 

And she says, "A good gravel road suits me." 

And she thinks that concrete must be queer; 
Says "Ashes make walks as hard as need be." 

And when I 'xplained 'bout a reservoir, 

She says, " My sakes ! What's your wells good 
for?" 

She says we city folks put on airs, 
And talk like for'ners, but I don't see 

But what the country is full of things, 
That're just as mixin'-up to me. 

How'd I know that potatoes are " spuds " ? 
An' how'd I know that clothes are " duds " ? 

65 



66 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

She said one day, " Now, Dolly, run 
And get me a blikkie of water quick." 

I was 'shamed to ask what a " blikkie " is, 
So I fibbed I'm 'f raid ; made believe I's sick. 

And then Aunt Mollie she looked at me 
And burst out laughing's hard as could be. 

And she took a little tin pail and went 

Out to the pump, — and her shoulders shook. 

Now I was politer than that when she 
Didn't know that a chef is a cook. 

And how'd I know her back porch is a " stoop " 
Any more'n I knew what's a chicken " coop." 

And once she was cookin' supper and said, 
" I must hurry and heat the spider," an' 

I 'spected to see the poor thing hop 

Around ; — but 'twas only the frying-pan. 

And how'd I know that guineas are " fowls," 
And that terrible holler at night is owls ? 

Well ! I've written to Daddy, and I said, 
" Now, Daddy, you were born here, so 

You ought to be 'quainted with these queer ways ; 
And there's lots of things I ought to know. 

I'm pretty smart up home, — but, dear ! 
I'm dreadful ignorant down here." 



the sayings of grandfather 
Macintosh 

Now, Mrs. Barry, you know I'm a fair-minded hos- 
pitable woman. And you never hear me say a word 
against any of Tom's relations, — unless they good 
and deserve it, — but this visit of his Grandfather 
Macintosh's is getting on my nerves. 

If I could understand him now, it wouldn't bother 
me so ; but I only get about one word out of ten, and 
I don't know what to make of what I do get. 

If I'm cooking and he says, as he did yesterday, 
" Ye can mak' whinstanes kitchen gin ye ha'e butter 
eneugh. I'll nae say yer a puir cook. I ken fine the 
butthered side o' my bannock, an' ye might gi'e me 
praties and point." Why, I don't know whether he 
is praising me or not. 

But I know he talks about my friends. Just yes- 
terday when you called, looking so sweet and so young 
too, in that cute little sports suit and hat, I heard him 
say to Tom, " She's nae checken for a' her cheepin'," 
whatever in the world that meant; and when sister 
Eva's friend, Mr. Bangs, called the other night — you 
know what a refined elegant person he is, — I know 
from the way Grandfather Macintosh grunted when 
I was praising him to Tom, he didn't like him, and I 
heard him afterward say to Tom : 

" He was cut oot for a gentleman, nae doot, but 
the de'il ran awa' wi' the patthurn. He carries a 
shuck o' stuff on the ootside o' his heid, eh, Tammy ? 
But he'll nae dhroon, for he's only a blether." And 

6 7 



68 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Tom laughed to hurt himself, but just teased when I 
tried to find out what that disagreeable old man 
meant. 

And when I was hurrying around to-day to get 
things done to come to this meeting I heard him 
mutter something about " like a hen on a het griddle," 
and when I was putting on my hat before the glass 
he said : " Braw's the goon, and neat the shoon, but 
han'some is as han'some does." And I felt just like 
giving him a good sharp answer, only he'd probably 
say something more that I wouldn't get even half of, 
and I'd come off the worse of the two. 

He and little Tom are the greatest chums, though ; 
and Tommy understands most everything he says, 
and even lets him scold him. The other day Tommy 
had been playing with that rough Beatty boy we've 
forbidden him having anything to do with, and they 
got in a fight and poor little Tommy came in with his 
poor little nose all swollen and bleeding. Of course 
I tried to comfort the child, but Grandfather Mac- 
intosh said a lot of that gibberish of his just as cross 
as could be to him: 

" Dinna greet, Tammy ! If ye lie doon wi' the 
dawgs ye maun rise wi' fleas, ye ken." 

And when I gave the child some cookies to take his 
mind off his nose that cross old man muttered: "A 
soople mither maks a sweer wean. Let every herrin' 
hang by its ain tail. Ye'd best gi'e him a noggin' o' 
birch broth." Now if you can make any sense out 
of that you beat me. 

Then he said to Tommy, who was telling me 
through his tears how mean that boy had been: 
" Tammy, be sure ye pit th' saddle on the richt horse. 
Nae banshee'll skirl when them Beattys is stark, I 
ken, but gi'e the de'il his due." And then Tommy, 
poor brave darling, said, " Don't bother about me, 






SAYINGS OF GRANDFATHER MACINTOSH 69 

Mother. It was just as much my fault, I guess, as 
Reddy's ; and, anyway, he's gone home with a black 
eye, and he'll get, another next time I meet him ! " 

And that ridiculous old man just rocked back and 
forth laughing, and said: 

" Tow to yer thrapple for a Tory, Tammy, but 'tis 
as well to tak' nae dunts f rae ony mon. But it's mair 
by guid luck than guid guidin' ye've only yer nose 
bleedin'. So dinna streak oot yer han' fardher nor 
ye can win it back. That Beatty's as slippy as a 
Bann eel, an' ye've no need anyhow to pour wather on 
a drooned rat. Ha ! ha ! ha ! " 






THE SUNFLOWERS' WOOING 

Part I 

(As the stage curtain is drawn aside, two sheets 
are disclosed, hung at an angle so that they partly 
face each other. On one of these is painted tall 
green grass — green crepe paper strips may be pasted 
on — above which rise six sunflowers — yellow petals 
and large green leaves on green stalks; also of crepe 
paper. On the opposite sheet is same arrangement 
of grass, but smaller petals and green leaves for the 
six black-eyed Susans or yellow daisies. The centers 
of both sets of flozvers are cut out for the faces of 
young men — in sunflowers — and girls — in daisies. 

Each sunflower in turn sings a line to the tune of 
"Reuben, Reuben, I've been thinking" to which the 
opposite daisy replies. After all have sung questions 
and answers the sunflowers sing first chorus; daisies 
second. ) 

A — Susan ! Susan ! Black-eyed Susan ! 
B — Well ! Mister Sunflower, have your say. 
A — Why do you hide when I am passing? 
B — Because you have such a staring way. 

C — You seem a bashful timid maiden. 
D — You seem a bold presumptuous youth ! 
C — What can I say of myself to please you ? 
D — Nothing, I fear, if you speak the truth. 
70 






THE SUNFLOWERS' WOOING /I 

E — Proud tho' I am yet to you I'm humble. 
F — Pray do not let me make you feel small. 
E — What can I do, for I seem to stumble ? 
F — Back ! Oh go back to your garden wall ! 

G — Susan, I have long been thinking — 
H — That's a very great surprise ! 
G — That you do not seem to like me? 
H — Really, you have splendid eyes ! 

I — Why are you so often scornful ? 
J — Why are you so often near? 
I — Oh, you make me feel so mournful ! 
J — I can't say a thing to cheer. 

K — Can't you be a little friendly ? 
L — Absence makes a fonder heart. 
K — But I couldn't bear to leave you ! 
L — I could well endure to part. 

(This style of question and answer is repeated, but 
this time each daisy face disappears after singing, 
dropping a plain black flower-center in place of face.) 

A — Listen, fair maid, let me tell you something. 
B — I must be going, the day grows old. 

C — Just let me whisper a word in parting. 
D — I cannot linger, the wind is cold. 

E — I have a secret that needs unfolding. 
F — Some one is calling — I cannot stay. 

G — Susan, I've something so sweet to tell you. 
H — Guess it will keep till another day. 



72 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

I — Just let me ask you a simple question. 
J — Gladly I'd answer, but time doth fly. 

K — Have you no balm for my heart's mad beat- 
ing? 
L — Silence is balm, friend ! Good by ! Good by ! 

{Sunflowers sing sadly and disappear one after 
another.) 

A — Black-eyed Susan I must follow. 

C — Fare-thee-well, cold world, I go! 

E — Life's a mockery all hollow. 

G — Life is but an idle show ! 

I — Susan, Susan, black-eyed Susan ! 
Lonely I must ever be. 

K — Lonely, yes ! but I am lonelier ! 

Nobody left, (Disappears, only voice heard.) 
not even me ! 

CURTAIN 



Part II 

(Sheets have been removed and a high garden wall 
is disclosed — of red bricks with vine running over it, 
painted on cardboard, above which rise the heads of 
the sunflowers, faces framed in yellow crepe-paper 
petals; green leaf-pointed collars beneath. At each 
side and below, and in front of wall are three Black- 
eyed Susans, heads slightly tilted upward in listen- 



THE SUNFLOWER^ WOOING 73 

ing attitudes; hand at ear; slightly crouching; yellow- 
petaled bonnets with black crowns; green scalloped 
dresses.) 

{One Sunflower sings to tune of "Sailing! Sail- 
ing! Over the bounding Main! ") 
A sunflower's heart is gay and bold; 
It braves the storm — tho' winds grow cold; 
The sun may beam ; the rain may beat ; 
It smiles and never knows defeat. 
But when its love is cast aside in scorn, 
A sunflower needs must sadly droop and mourn ; 
Oh, how doth a maiden — just by an answer cold — 
Work more havoc than the storms to sunflowers bold ! 

(All Sunflowers nod, singing.) 

Chorus. 
Nodding, nodding, now do the tear-drops fall ! 
Many the sigh as those maids go by, from 
Over the garden wall. 

Hearts all broken, over those words you said. 
Oh, beautiful Sue, I'm so daft about you, 
I've certainly lost my head. 

(Quickly withdraw faces and drop Sunflower 
heads over the wall at the feet of Black-eyed Su- 
sans, who jump up in alarmed dismay, each picking 
up a Sunflower head and pressing it against her 
heart. They sing to chorus of " Reuben! Reuben! ") 

This is awful ! awful ! awful ! 

How could such cruel ill betide ! 

Look, what we've done to those noble Sunflowers ! 

Wickedly driven to Su-i-cide! 

(They mourn for a moment over the Sunflowers' 
heads. Then one sings to tune "Sailing! Sailing!") 



74 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Oh, Susan dear, take heart of cheer ! 
Be not dismayed with grief and fear! 
We will restore to each its place, 
Each noble head we must replace. 

{Each gazes into Sunflower faces fondly and re- 
gretfully.) 

Tho' other voices call, tho' breezes blow, 
We will not wander other scenes to know. 
For — we hear them calling 

{Far-away voices call — " Susan! Susan! ") 

Those who are brave and dear. 
We will bide a while. Ah, we will linger here — 
(Chorus.) 

{They glide out, three at each side, singing.) 

Hurry ! Hurry ! 'Tisn't too late to stay ; 

In truth my heart did hate to part 

And tear myself away. 

Hurry ! Hurry ! Hark, don't you hear them call ? 

{Faint calls — u Susan") 

Each head we'll restore 
To its place once more; 
Over the garden wall. 

{As Sunflowers disappear, Jack-in-the-Pulpit 
stalks in, his yellow body sheathed in green. The 
green should be wired to stay in place, and as Jack 
pauses in center of stage he should so closely re- 
semble the flower he represents that the audience will 
recognize him at once.) 



THE SUNFLOWERS' WOOING 75 

(Jack sings to the tune of " Reuben, Reuben!') 

Tra ! la ! tra ! la ! 
Tra Ha! la Ha! 

Here is where it's "up to me." 
Cupid's been here very busy. 
He knows that I need the fee. 

(Just here Sunflower heads, each with a Susan 
close beside it, rise above the garden wall. Jack 
cocks head to listen, as, suiting motions to their words 
they all sing to tune " Sailing, sailing.") 

Nodding, nodding, over the garden wall. 
Nodding the same gay " Howdy do ! " 
To anybody at all. 
Nodding, nodding — 

(They see Jack and incline heads to look at him.) 

Susans. 
Look who is passing by ! 

(Sunflowers turn to Susans.) 

Sunflowers. 
Oh, dear little Sue, 
May our dreams come true? 

(Susans nod vigorous assent.) 

All. 
Ho ! Jack-in-the-Pulpit, Hi ! 

(Jack is replying, "Ay! ay, sir!" as curtain is 
drawn. ) 

CURTAIN 



POLITICS AIN'T WHAT THEY 
USED TO BE 

Abe and Jake, old-time " hay-seeds," dressed for 
the part, come in from opposite sides of stage playing 
the chorus of " Jim-Along-J osey " on harmonicas or 
" mouth-organs." They finish chorus and as Jake 
plays strains of verse Abe talks, keeping time to 
music, and instead of playing last few bars of verse, 
Jake says, " That's so, by gum! " as Abe plays last 
bars. Then both play chorus, apparently brooding 
over Abe's remarks. This is repeated after each 
verse. 

I tell ye, Jake, that politics 

Ain't what they used to be; 
Ye listen to a speaker and 
He leaves ye all at sea ; 
In case he is a Demmycrat, 

It does beat all creation 
How he'll claim every good thing done 

The last administration. 
Happens he's a Republican, 

He twists it round some way, 
To show it was his party that 

Stepped in and saved the day. 
It gits ye so bewildered ye'd 

As well of stayed to hum. 
Say, politicks ain't what they used 
To be— (Jake.) " That's so, by gum ! " 

{They play chorus.) 
76 



POLITICS AIN'T WHAT THEY USED TO BE 77 

And this here Woman Suffrage naow, 

It kind of interferes 
With all the good old-fashioned ways 

Of doin' things for years. 
My Mandy she ain't satisfied 

To cast her own vote naow 
She's gettin' so obstreperous 

She ups and tells me haow. 
I says to her, " Naow look ahere ! 

Ye've got yer rights, — an' some 
That ain't, — so don't ye interfere 

With mine."— (Jake.) "That's so, by 
gum!" 

{Chorus as before.) 

The children they come hum from school 

Chuck full of questions vexin' 
An' pitches into me fust thing ; 

It really is perplexin'. 
" Say, Pop ! what is a Soviet? 

An* who's the Bolsheviki ? 
It gits me so wrought up, I says, — 

" Keep still naow, or I'll lick ye." 
" Why shouldn't Ireland have hum rule, 

An' immigraters come ? " 
Jake, — young ones should be seen not heard 

I 'low.— (Jake. ) " That's so, by gum ! " 

{Chorus, etc.) 

The old melodeon's shet up ; 

WeVe got a new Victrola; 
We git some high-falutin' stuff 

When darter sings a sola. 



78 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

I had to board the old well up 

Fer " germs " was on the bucket, 
So Mandy read out of a book, — 

An' said fer me to chuck it. 
The ole mule browses all day long 

Out in the pasture fiel' ; 
Don't seem to hold no grudge agin 

Our new autymobile. 
I tell ye, Jake, that things is changed, 

It keeps ye steppin' some 
To keep up to the times these 

Hustlin' days.— (Jake.) " That's so, by 



gum! 



(Chorus, etc.) 






LUCY'S DREADFUL DREAM 

A little one and only child 

Was Lucy Morrow Lee. 
She was the pride and joy of both 

Sides of the family. 

They loved her very dearly, 

And they petted her a lot ; 
And everything her heart could wish 

She very promptly got. 

But they had a dreadful habit 

Of each one laying claim 
To parts of Lucy Morrow Lee's 

Attractive little frame. 

Said Mother, — " See, the darling 

Has my curly golden hair." 
Said Father, — " But her coloring's like mine, 

My folks are fair." 

Said Grandpa Lee, — " That mouth, you know, 
Belongs to all the Lees." 
" But not the nose," her mother said, 
"- That's Morrow, if you please." 

Said Grandma Lee, " Her voice is just 

Like mine when I was young." 
She even claimed the little lisp 

That bothered Lucy's tongue. 

79 



80 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

" Her eyes now," Grandpa Morrow said, 
"Those eyes belong to me; 
For everybody knows ours is 
A blue-eyed family." 

" Well, that may be," Lu's father said, 
" But say now, Pa, see here, 
Nobody on your side has ever 
Had that little ear." 

" Well, how about that foot, young man? " 
Said Grandpa Morrow, " eh ? 
Her Grandma Morrow's to a T ; 
Now that you can't gainsay." 

The way they had of laying claim 

To her anatomy, 
Produced a very strange effect 

On Lucy Morrow Lee. 

It gave her the impression 

She was perilously built; 
She felt exactly all pieced up 

Just like a patch-work quilt. 

One night she had an awful dream ; 

She thought she got all mixed 
Just like a jig-saw puzzle 

When you just can't get it fixed. 

Both pairs of grandparents were there 

At Lucy's on a visit, 
When in the dead of night a cry 

Made all exclaim,—" What is it ! " 



LUCY'S DREADFUL DREAM 8 1 

" Oh, what's the matter, darling child? " 
Her frightened mother cried; 
While all the other relatives 
Came running to her side. 

Poor Lucy Morrow blinked her eyes, 
But couldn't stop her screaming; 

She heard her mother's voice — far off, — 
And still she kept on dreaming. 

"Oh! Oh! What shall I do? "she cried, 

Her voice so shrilly rose, 
" For Grandma Morrow's gone away 

And carried off my nose. 

My nose ! My nose ! My little nose ! " 

Her mother strove to still her, 
But every time she said " my nose " 

Her voice kept growing shriller. 

" Oh, go make Grandma bring it back ! 
She's got one of her own. 
Mine's got three little freckles and 
It isn't quite full-grown." 

Poor Grandma Morrow wrung her hands ; 

" Oh, how do you suppose 
We'll ever make her understand 

I haven't got her nose ? " 

Then suddenly, — " I see it now, — 
It's all our fault," she said; 
" We've all been claiming her so much 
We've mixed her little head." 



82 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

" Oh, Lucy, Lucy, wake up, dear ! " 
At last her eyes unclose ; 
But first of all when she awoke 
She felt to find her nose. 

" I've had an awful, awful dream," 

Her bitter wailing ceases; 
" I got caught in a cyclone and 

I just all went to pieces. 

And Grandpa Morrow got my eyes, 

And Father got my ears, 
And Grandma Morrow took my feet ; — " 

She whimpered through her tears. 

" It was so hard to hunt them up 
In all that dreadful weather ; 
I've had an awful, awful time 
To get myself together. 

I got my eyes and ears and hair 
And feet, — " Her weeping rose, 
" My mouth and voice, — but oh ! I thought 
I'd never find my nose." 

At last they calmed her weeping, 
And subdued and greatly chastened, 

Back to their beds that family 
In the chill small hours hastened. 

They learned their lesson, and henceforth 

They let the youngster be 
Her little altogether self; 

Just Lucy Morrow Lee. 






GIRLS OF AMERICA 

A Pageant 

For the stage have a dark background, and at the 
front two curtains, also dark, which are drawn about 
three feet apart for the showing of the single figures, 
and all the way aside for the final group. 

Singers inconspicuously placed, render the songs. 

The order of presentation is as follows: 

i — Indian Girl. 7 — Western Girl. 

2 — Puritan Maid. 8 — Home Girl. 

3 — Colonial Girl. 9 — College Girl. 

4 — Yankee Girl of '6i. io — Khaki Girl. 

5 — Southern Girl of *6i. ii — Red Cross Girl. 

6 — Schoolgirl of To-day. 12 — Bride. 

Indian Girl first appears; her brown-fringed cos- 
tume ornamented with gay colored beads, a beaded 
band about her head with a feather at the back; hair 
in two braids. As the first lines of " Juanita" are 
sung the curtains part about three feet, and she glides 
through, pauses, shading eyes with hand, gazing off 
into the distance. She remains so during a few 
measures of the song, then gracefully withdraws with 
backward movement, and the curtains close. 

Song, to tune " Juanita." 
Into our dreaming of the days so long gone by, 
Strangely, in seeming, comes before our eye 
Out of history's pages, like a forest creature shy, 
Dark-eyed Indian maiden of those days gone by. 

83 



84 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Chorus : 

Little Indian maiden, 
First of all the happy band 
Of America's girlhood, 
In our well-loved land. 

The next to step shyly between the parted curtains 
is prim little " Pris cilia," the Puritan Maid, in her 
Quaker gray gown, close white-faced cap and ker- 
chief, and buckled shoes. With demurely folded 
hands she pauses for a moment or two, then with- 
draws as quietly as her predecessor. 

Song, to tune " Long, Long Ago." 
Tell me the tale of that far distant day, 

Long, long ago ; long, long ago. 
When ships came sailing from far, far away, 

Long, long ago ; long, long ago. 
When with the brave men who sailed o'er the sea, 
Came maids and matrons with courage to be 
Home-makers in this dear land of the free, 

Long, long ago ; long, long ago. 

Then comes the Colonial Maid with flowered 
bodice and overskirt, and quilted satin skirt; her hair 
powdered and arranged high on her head; a bit of 
court-plaster enhancing the fairness of her face. She 
goes through motions of a minuet, stepping daintily 
in her high-heeled buckled slippers, coquetting a bit 
with her fan. 

Song, to turn of " Don Juan Minuet." 
Then comes the maiden fair of gladsome days ; 
When life was bright and gay, and words were 
praise. 



GIRLS OF AMERICA 85 

Courtly the men ; and maids of winsome ways, 

In those Colonial days. 
Smiles through the never-ending sunny hours ; 
All life a holiday of birds and flowers; 
To fortune's darlings none but April showers, 

In those Colonial days. 



Next a Yankee Girl in the dress of '61 appears; 
smoothly-parted low-drawn hair; little scalloped 
jacket, and very full hoop-skirt. She stands with an 
open letter held in her hands. 



Song, to tune " Yankee Doodle.'* 
Yankee girl of long ago 

We know your heart is aching, 
At parting from your soldier boy. 

But not your spirit quaking. 
Smiling bravely through your tears ; 

Waiting for the morrow. 
Hoping for a brighter day 

You hide away your sorrow. 



The Southern Girl next glides gracefully in. 
Her flowered, rather low-cut dress, full-skirted as her 
Yankee sister's. She holds a rose in her hand; gazes 
wistfully off into space. 



Song, to tune " Dixie." 
She's wishing, wishing that the war were over ; 
Wishing, wishing for her brave young lover, 
Gone away, gone away, 
Gone away from Dixie land. 



86 ANV-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Chorus : 
When he comes home to Dixie 

How glad she'll be; 
For Dixie-land he took his stand, 

To live or die for Dixie. 
Away, away, away down south in Dixie. 
Away, away, away down south in Dixie. 

The half-grown Schoolgirl of To-day next 
appears, with jaunty bright-colored hat, and scarf 
flung over her shoulder; books under her arm she 
comes in on roller-skates, on which she moves back 
and forth to the rhythm of the music. 

Song, to tune " My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." 

The schoolgirl's the girl, I've a notion, 
Most all are delighted to see. 

Her laugh brings a happy commotion. 
The American schoolgirl for me. 
Chorus : 

Laughing, chaffing, 

Lithesome and blithsome of spirit she, 

Ne'er too weary 

To be cheery, 

The American schoolgirl for me. 

The Western Girl in riding costume, sombrero 
and boots, crop in hand strides in. Taps time to 
music with foot and crop for a minute or two,- then 
side-steps out. * 

Song, to tune " The Campbells are Coming." 
The girl of the west is a joy to see; 
The breeze of the prairie is not more free ; 
And joyously glad of her lot is she; 



GIRLS OF AMERICA &7 

Oh, the girl of the west is a joy to see. 

She rides with daring afar and wide ; 

Nor fears if there's none but herself to guide ; 

But hastens with joy at the eventide 

To the little gray home on the prairie wide. 

Oh! 

The girl of the west is a joy to see; 

The breeze of the prairie is not more free ; 

And joyously glad of her lot is she. 

Oh! The girl of the west is a joy to see! 



The to-day's Home Girl in simple summer dress 
and garden hat; a basket of flowers on her arm, 
comes in. Holds side curtain gracefully for a mo- 
ment with free hand before she slips out with a little 
nod and smile. 



Song, to tune " Home Sweet Home" 
In mansions or palaces though we may roam, 
We'll meet none more winsome than the girl who 

loves her home. 
Who touches with magic each dear familiar place ; 
And turns all to gold by the charm of smile and 

grace. 

Home, home, sweet, sweet home! 
We'll ne'er meet one fairer than the 
Girl of home sweet home. 



The College Girl appears in trim tailored suit 
and hat, pennant of some college in hand. Rather 
severe of manner until, as she retreats, she smiles and 
waves the pennant. 



88 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Song, to tune " Comin' Through the Rye.'* 
Gin a body meet a lady 

With a thoughtful eye ; 
Rather self-assured of manner, 

Not so very shy; 
But in spite of all her learning 

Girlish charms persist. 
Little college maid, we find you 

Useless to resist. 

The Khaki Girl of the Motor Service steps 
briskly forward, and stands at attention during the 
singing of a few lines of the following: 

Song, to tune " Keep the Home Fires Burning." 
She kept the home fires burning, 

Though her heart was yearning. 
Lads she loved were far away 

With thoughts of home. 
She found the silver lining 

Through the dark cloud shining, 
And turned the dark cloud inside out 

Till the boys came home. 

A Red Cross Girl in costume of the Red Cross 
nurse parts the curtains, steps in and stands quietly 
for a moment, holding back a curtain with either 
hand, her white costume with its Red Cross emblems 
emphasized in contrast with the dark background. 
After a brief pause she withdraws behind the cur- 
tains. 

Song, to tune " Over There." 

She was there ! over there ! 
Came the call, she left all, 
To be there. 






GIRLS OF AMERICA 89 

Darkest days to brighten, 
And burdens lighten ; 
And hardships, perils all to share. 
Brave of heart, did her part ; 
Did her best, with the rest, 

Fair and square. 
She went over, — yes, she went over ; 
And she stayed there too, till 'twas 

Over, over there. 

A white-clad Bride, veil, orange-blossoms and 
all, steps through the parted curtains to the strains of 
Mendelssohn's " Wedding March" and as she pauses 
at center, the curtains are quickly drawn all the way 
aside and the other girls come in from both sides of 
stage, keeping step to the music, and form a group 
about the bride. 

The opening strains of the march are repeated to 
the following words: 

North, South, or East or West, 
America's girls are the best ; 

And you can tell the world that 
Here, there, and everywhere 

Are ringing her praises forever ! 



CURTAIN 



THE FROG HOLLER ORCHESTRA 

(Stage arranged to seat orchestra; any number may 
be in it.) 

Zeke Price, leader, baton, a knotted stick, in hand, 
comes on alone, makes elaborate bow, and tells audi- 
ence: 

Frog Holler used to be so slow 

There wa'n't a thing to do 
But set around the corner store 

And swap old yarns and chew. 
Till Simpkins had a bright idea, — 
One day he says to me, — 
" Why can't we have an orchester 
In this here taown ? " says he. 

Says I to him, " Wa'al say naow that 

Would liven things a bit. 
If we got up an orchester 

By gum ! we'd make a hit ! " 
But Obediah say, " Look here, 

Naow I don't see no way 
Of gettin' up an orchester 

Without there's folks to play." 

Says he, " I want to tell ye, Zeke, 

Ye'll find that on the whole 
Most everybody's got a lot 

Of music in his soul ; 
And just you give him half a chance, 

There ain't a bit o' doubt 
He'll make a mighty struggle for 

To let that music aout." 
90 






THE FROG HOLLER ORCHESTRA 9 1 

Wa'al anyway, we organized; 

And Obed says, " Naow boys 
Bring any insterment along 

Just so it makes a noise." 
He 'p'inted me the leader for 

He seemed to think it best 
That I should kinder concentrate 

The efforts of the rest. 

Hi Hopkins brought a fiddle, an* 

His brother Abe a flute; 
Obe hunted up his gran'dad's horn, 

An' 'twa'n't too old to toot. 
Hen Hankins fetched a xylophone 

Of little Susie Ann's ; 
And Sammy Siddons didn't have 

A thing but two tin pans. 

" Them there's the cymbels," Sammy says ; 

Pop Perkins brought a drum ; 
Say ! When they all got tunin' up 

I swan ! they made things hum ! 
There ain't a doubt Frog Holler, when 

You take it as a whole, 
Has certainly got an awful lot 

Of music in its soul. 



(At this point the orchestra files in. The members 
carry all sorts of instruments. Their costumes are 
ridiculous ; chin whiskers, spectacles, etc., are worn. 
Some are chewing. They take places, seat them- 
selves, and begin to "tune up " ; even the drummer 
thumping.) 

(Leader turns his back to audience and addresses 
musicians loudly.) 



92 ANY-DA Y ENTERTAINMENTS 

Hey ! Hi ! you better tighten up 

That middle F a bit. 
By gum ! Naow Abe, that flute sounds like 

It's goin' to throw a fit. 
Say, Obediah, that there toot's 

A leetle mite too loud ; 
We ain't a aimin' yet to split 

The ear-drums o' the crowd ! 

And Hen, take Susie's xylophone 

Down to the blacksmith shop 
Next time you happen 'long that way ; 

It's kinder loose on top. 
You gotta tone them cymbels down 

Or throw 'em out — there — Sam ! 
Say, Pop ! You let up on that drum ! 

There ain't no need to slam. 

Naow ready ! Everybody try 

To give the folks our best. 
Don't each play on his own hook 

Kinder foller with the rest. 
We'll give 'em somethin' modern first 

Real up-to-date and smart. 
It's called " The Prohibition Glide." 

Ready naow fellers ! Start ! 

(They play the chorus of " The Old Oaken 
Bucket/' One or two solos might be introduced by 
members of the orchestra on different instruments; 
and a jig executed by one to the tune of " Pop Goes 
the Weasel," or " Turkey in the Straw") 



THE END 






MAY m i9tt 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



021 100 591 9 



